


One and the Same

by Ifihadatardis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers find out about the movies, Avengers meet Tom Hiddleston, Avengers meet actors, Chris Hemsworth - Freeform, Did I mention this is a mess, He sort of hates Loki, I don't know how I feel about Odin, Innocent Loki, It's kind of complicated and I'm not going to explain, Loki is innocent, Loki isn't evil, Loki isn't good, Loki lifts Mjolnir, Loki trial, Loki wasn't exactly responsible for his actions on earth, Loki worthy of Mjolnir, Mjolnir - Freeform, Odin's A+ Parenting, Odin's kind of evil, Probably other actors too but I might just mention them, Spoilers, There's a gray area in there and that's what he is, kind of, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-03-01 08:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifihadatardis/pseuds/Ifihadatardis
Summary: It's the day of Loki's trial, but Odin has a "test" for Loki. If the latter can lift Thor's hammer, then he will receive a lighter punishment. However, there are bigger things afoot, beyond control of the All-Father and Asgard. The Avengers, Jane, and the Aesir are in for a bigger surprise than they bargained for. And who the Hel is this Chris Hemsworth character Loki is talking about?Avengers meet Tom Hiddleston, because I'm really original that way.





	1. Worthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin really likes silence, he's also really kind of cruel, Thor just really loves Loki, and Loki is honestly just accepting his fate at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty new to the Marvel fandom, but I fell in love with the Avengers, and Loki's character intrigues me. I've read a few of these types of fanfics and I wanted to give it my own go. Just a warning, I sound super pretentious when I write, but it's either that or nothing, so I went with pretentious. Wish me luck. 
> 
> Also, I do not own Marvel - the Avengers, Loki, or any other characters/things that you might recognize.

The day of the long-awaited trial had arrived. Avengers and Aesir alike had assembled in the throne room in Odin’s palace, waiting to see the much-hated prisoner with words of malice on their tongues. 

Loki had not been seen in the eight months since the Avengers had defeated him in New York, as Odin had sentenced him to isolation – locked away deep in the bowels of Asgard in a place only the All-Father knew of. Thor, loyal and loving as ever, had begged nearly every day to visit his once-brother, but his father, the great king, would not permit it. “It is the first and necessary step to reform the prisoner,” the All-Father had said in a low, grave voice. The Avengers had found themselves hating Odin from afar, as the king's refusal to let Thor see Loki had left the normally cheerful thunder god moping and moody, and New York received an abnormally large amount of rain in the last eight months.

Today was the second necessary step of Loki's punishment. As Loki’s first trial, when he’d first returned to Asgard with Thor after attempting to take over Midgard, had been a private affair, and as many Aesir wished to see the disgraced prince put in place and to deliver him their own words of hate, Loki’s second trial was the most talked-about event in the last century. The demand to watch the traitor’s sentencing was high, comparative only to that of the demand to see a Midgardian boy band concert, sans the music. 

Now Odin, the All-Father, Son of Borr, Father of Balder, Enemy of the Wolf, among other grand titles, sat on his throne on the raised royal platform at the very front of the room, all eyes upon him. A scary and regal sight, his stoic face gave nothing away as he waited, patiently, for the guards to bring the prisoner in. Next to him, seated on a smaller throne of her own, was his wife, Frigga, just as regal as her husband, though not nearly as unreadable. Her face, beautiful and wise, looked perpetually upset, but she simply stared straight ahead, and her golden-haired son, seated next to her, made no move to comfort the goddess. Thor, too, looked troubled by the event that was about to commence. Dressed in his usual Asgardian armor, his long hair brushed away from his face, and Mjolnir hanging by his side, he was the picture of the perfect prince his people believed him to be.

In the nearest seats to the royal family were Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, their expressions varied but pensive, and next to the esteemed Asgardians were the Avengers and Jane, who, despite being mortals, had been subject to a most welcome reception ever since arriving on the Bifrost two mornings ago. There were mixed feelings among this group as well – everywhere from downright hostile at the very thought of Loki (Clint) to wary pity (Jane). 

Loki’s arrival was announced not by a loud banging of doors or the shouting of guards. Beginning at the back of the throne room, nearest the entryway, the sound of hissing built as Aesir showed their contempt for the fallen prince. The noise, quiet at first, soon grew thunderous, until it seemed that thousands of snakes had taken up residence in the palace.

Because it was a large room, the Avengers, in the very front, craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the villain they’d fought eight months before. They were not the only ones to look. There was no denying that everyone was curious as to how the second prince of Asgard had changed during his isolation, if he’d changed at all.

It took a moment, but soon the clinking of chains grew louder, and Loki, dressed in a loose fitting green tunic and black pants, was kneeling on the ground in front of his old family. Some sneered in disgust at him, or yelled words of hatred and malice to the man - if it hadn't been the throne room of the All-Father, some would've surely spat - but Loki remained unperturbed, his dulled green eyes fixed steadily on the wall above the All-Father’s throne. 

Tony Stark, who had expected to join into the cacophony of angry voices now filling the room, could only stare at the imprisoned god in shock. It was impossible to tell if the ex-prince had changed mentally, but Loki had certainly changed physically. He was in horrible condition. Hair matted and skeletally thin, Tony could barely match this pathetic figure in front of him with the insane maniac who’d tried to take over the world. 

But his hygiene and malnourishment were not the most alarming things about the Loki who now kneeled, head bowed, at the feet of the All-Father. No, worse then that was the blood that covered his clothes and his skin. He was barefoot, his left foot covered in dried blood while his right ankle appeared horribly swollen. In the brief glimpse Tony had gotten of Loki’s face, before the prisoner bowed his head, sunken green eyes had stared out from hollow cheeks riddled with scratches that still poured fresh blood. This left Tony with two conclusions – either the guards had beaten Loki as they brought him to the throne room, or Loki, in his months of isolation, had injured himself.

Even as Clint and many others called out angrily, mocking the prisoner and spitting at him in contempt, Tony found he couldn’t even open his mouth to utter a single word. He was relieved to see he was not the only one feeling strange about the whole situation. Bruce, who’d feared he would Hulk out when he saw Loki, looked green for an entirely different reason. Natasha, as ever, was unreadable, but Tony had learned to read her posture – at least, he liked to think he had – and her tensed soldiers and stiff neck seemed to imply that she was uncomfortable. Steve simply stared at his shield as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Jane’s gaze was fixed on Thor, lips set in a firm line, but her eyes betrayed the pity she held for Loki. Even Sif and the Warriors Three, who prior to the commencement of the trial had spoken only ill of the condemned, looked surprised by Loki’s condition.

At last, the hate-filled voices of the people died down, and silence reigned once more. Every eye was fixed either on the All-Father, or the pathetic prisoner at his feet. If Loki felt uncomfortable by the knife-edged glares he was receiving, he didn’t show it. Odin seemed to thrive on the attention, allowing the quiet to grow into a horrible, uncomfortable monster that ate up even the slightest whispers and gnawed at all movement, until, it seemed, that all time had stilled.

Then he opened his mouth and began. “We are gathered on this day,” he said slowly, carefully, enunciating each word so that he would be heard clearly, “to decide the fate of Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim.”

This statement was met with more hissing from the assembled, but the sound quickly died down again when Odin held up his hand. Tony couldn't help but be surprised - it seemed that Odin no longer considered Loki his own son. This fact did not sit well with the billionaire.

Face still impassive, the All-Father continued. “As many of you know by this point, eight months ago, Loki of Jotunheim – “ A few more hisses were heard, but this time Odin did not pause to raise his hands, opting instead to go on, “ – Loki of Jotunhiem, long believed to be dead after his fall from the Bifrost, attempted to take over Midgard.”

The All-Father, who had yet to glance at the man he spoke of, kneeling at his feet, let his gaze slide to the Avengers sitting in the front. He allowed a smile to slip onto his face as he went on; “It is only thanks to a group of Midgardian superheroes, known as the Avengers, that the realm remains independent of and un-ruled by the man whose fate we shall decide today.”

He paused. His gaze flickered away from the Avengers and now fixed upon the far wall of the throne room. Still, he did not glance in Loki’s direction. His single eye was cold. Once again, silence dominated. Not a single soul dared breath, for fear of inhaling too loudly. “During the eight months between the prisoner’s attempted invasion and now, he has been subject to an extended period of isolation in hopes that he would reflect upon the consequences of the poor choices that were his actions. Today, we shall see if his time alone has done him harm or good, and act from there.”

Odin paused again, but this time, his speech was met with a breeze of curious whispers throughout the hall. Behind him, Tony heard Clint mutter angrily to Natasha – “This is the only punishment he gets for brainwashing me and trying to take over Midgard?” 

After allowing the hall once more to fall into tombstone silence, the All-Father continued on with his speech. “Regardless of the changes that may have occurred, I give you my word that, as the Ruler of the Nine Realms, the justice that all of you have come here to witness shall be served.”

“Now – “ here Odin shifted, straightening a bit in his throne and leaning forward just the slightest – “it has been advised that I perform a simple test, that will tell us whether or not Loki has changed, if at all, for the better or worse. My son, Thor, Crown Prince of Asgard, wields the famous weapon Mjolnir, a hammer forged by dwarves out of Uru, in the heart of a dying star. Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.”

These words were met with silence, which surprised Tony, who had been expecting some form of protest, or perhaps even laughter, for surely there was no way that the man who had tried to enslave a realm and killed dozens could be worthy of Mjolnir. It was perfect, Tony thought, as he realized just what Odin was intending. It was a perfect punishment for Loki. A reminder that Loki was not and would never be good enough for Mjolnir, and in a way, good enough for Odin. It was a reminder that he was unliked and unloved by the people who’d raised him. It was the punishment before punishment, a humiliation for Loki as he was laughed at for failing to lift a hammer that would never budge for him.

In that moment, Tony found himself hating Odin even more than he hated Loki. Yes, Loki was evil and probably more than a little insane and all that, but he was Odin’s son. Well, adopted son, but that had to count for something, even if it seemed that the All-Father no longer regarded Loki as one of his own. The idea of a cruel father figure didn’t sit well with the Ironman. 

“My son, if you would,” Odin said now, beckoning imperiously with one of his hands. Thor got the message, rising to his feet to deliver Mjolnir to his father. The All-Father now rose from his throne, and Thor approached him, hammer in tow. “In all of history, there have been few worthy of Mjolnir’s power. My son, Thor, now wields the mighty weapon. And of course, myself, though I do not use it.”

He now put his hand around Mjolnir’s well-worn handle, as if to show that he could, in fact, wield the weapon, but quickly released it once more when Thor made to let go. Perhaps there was nothing suspicious in Odin’s actions, but Tony found himself wondering if the All-Father was not worthy of Mjolnir, but did not want his people to find out.

Thor was now walking down the steps of the throne platform, rapidly approaching the crouched figure of his once-brother. As Odin continued speaking, the thunder god knelt next to Loki, setting the hammer down to the side, and putting one of his hands on the younger’s shoulder.

“If the prisoner can lift the hammer today,” Odin decreed, “then he shall be worthy, and shall prove that he has changed for the better. Therefore, his punishment shall be minor. If the prisoner is unable to lift the hammer, he shall prove himself unchanged, or worsened, and will therefore be subject to severe consequence before he is allowed once more an attempt to lift the hammer.”

This time, the All-Father’s words were met the noise. Laughter, predominantly, for it appeared that most of the gathered witnesses shared Tony’s belief that Loki could not and would not lift the hammer, and were preparing to throw more insults and jibes at the disgraced prince’s expense. It may have been his newfound dislike for the man, but Tony could’ve sworn he saw a glint of mirth in Odin’s one eye, before the iris again became as cold and impassive as a rock.

“Thor, step away from the prisoner,” Odin demanded grimly, and the Crown Prince of Asgard reluctantly stood up, regret, fear, and some other emotion written across his face. Loki had not looked up as his once-brother had spoken to him. For the first time, the All-Father’s cold gaze fell on Loki. “Now, let the test commence. Loki of Jotunheim – “ this title again earned sneers of disgust – “lift Mjolnir.”

The noise in the hall was much louder than it had been when Loki had first arrived. There was hooting and hollering, people already jeering despite the fact the prince hadn’t even stirred from his kneeling position on the floor.

“Well?” Clint asked impatiently, eager to see the god of mischief humiliated and put in place in front of almost all of Asgard. Still, Loki did not move, though his shoulders, which had been tense from the moment he entered the throne room, seemed to relax. The crowd began growing impatient, and as their patience dwindled, the noise increased.

“Make him rise!”

“Has his time in isolation made him an idiot?”

“He was always weak!”

“Laufey spawn!”

“He knows he’s not worthy of the mighty Mjolnir!”

“Jotun scum!”

“Loki of Jotunheim,” the All-Father said from his standing position on the platform. He had no need to raise his voice, for the very instant his mouth opened, the chaos in the throne room vanished. “You have been given an order.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. His head was still bowed, and he knew that for the moment his facial expression was shielded from the crowd by the curtain of his matted hair. He needed as much time as he could get to school his features into passive whatever-ness – for that was the only word he could come up with for the expression he wished to make – before he was forced to rise and except his humiliation. He knew this was no test. This was Odin, Enemy of the Frost Giants. Loki knew he’d never been a son in the All-Father’s eyes. He was, and always would be, a Jotun, a monster, the enemy of Asgard and therefore, the enemy of Odin. And the King of the Nine Realms took much pleasure in torturing Frost Giants, even if others didn’t know, or turned a blind eye. 

'Oh,' Loki thought, as above him, Odin’s voice grew to a thunderous growl of impatience, 'if only I were worthy of Mjolnir. How amusing and justifying it would be then, when I lifted the hammer and proved everyone wrong.' 

“Loki of Jotunheim,” the All-Father repeated, “this is your last opportunity. If you wish to not rise and prove that you have changed, then so be it. You will be subjected to the worst forms of punishment available, but with the knowledge that you could have prevented your pain.”

'I might as well play Odin’s hand,' Loki thought to himself with a sigh. 'If he believes that I’ve changed, or am willing to go along with his whims, perhaps he’ll be lenient. That could prove advantageous in the future.' He was now smoothing over his facial expression, relaxing the tense muscles, setting his lips into a firm line, turning his eyes into hard diamonds that gave nothing away. He wished, for a second, that he had not scratched at his face in wild frenzies during his isolation, but decided that the blood, both fresh and dry, that coated his face might lessen his punishment if it invoked pity. 'Well, here goes nothing.'

Finally, he looked up, and almost immediately wished he hadn’t, because Thor had not returned to his seat next to Frigga and was instead at the foot of the platform, staring at him with the most pitying look Loki had ever received, and he hated it, the pity and regret in his once-brother’s blue eyes, asking him why Loki had gone bad and done everything and messed up their perfect Asgardian life. 

Odin’s stoic mask had fallen off. He allowed himself a small smile, lips curling in satisfaction, when he saw Loki’s eyes. At last, the beast had come to his senses, had realized that he was cornered and left with no other choice but to obey. The gasps that resonated from some of the witnesses who had not before seen the prisoner’s face annoyed him. Loki deserved no pity. 

“Rise,” the All-Father commanded, gesturing with wide arms for the prisoner to do as ordered. With some difficulty – Loki winced almost imperceptibly as he set weight on his battered feet – he rose. 

For the first time since entering the throne room, he allowed his gaze to wander, glazing over the commandeering figure of the All-Father, to the smaller figure of his mother, staring at him, her eyes filled with love and regret for all that had passed, and all that could never be. Strangely, though Loki despised all forms of pity, it was a different story with his mother, and he did not find himself sneering at her in disgust. Features still stoic, his eyes roamed to Thor, who still stood at the bottom of the stares and who now gazed back at him, eyes pleading for Loki to do as he was told as quickly as possible. A thousand words that would never be spoken fluttered to the tip of Loki’s lips, though he had no idea why he would want to speak with Thor. 

“Make haste,” Odin demanded from the royal platform, a hint of annoyance creeping into his otherwise unemotional voice. Stirred by the words of his once-father, Loki turned to look at the hammer Thor had placed at his feet. It had been a while since he’d had the opportunity to examine Mjolnir at length, without risking Thor’s wrath, but he found himself strangely disappointed by the weapon. It was not as awesome as he remembered it to be, certainly not something he would expect to be impossible to lift. 

The jeers that had been so raucous only moments before died down in anticipation. Loki doubted that anybody believed he would pass this “test” that Odin had set him. Even he didn’t believe that he would lift the hammer. Best to get it done and over with, then, and try to shut out all the noises that his expected failure would create. Feeling like a ridiculous source of cheap entertainment, Loki reached out and wrapped his hand around Mjolnir’s handle. He thought he felt a spark as his fingers connected – residue of Thor’s power, no doubt – and he sensed the faint humming of power vibrating through the metal. Not wanting to delay any longer, he attempted to lift the weapon.

It was a mistake, Loki thought, to have pulled on the hammer with all his might in his attempt to raise it. He hadn’t expected anything to happen when he did, but he figured he might as well go for it. He was going to be humiliated and scorned regardless when he failed to pull Mjonir from the ground. 

The only trouble was, he hadn’t failed. As though she weighed little more than a feather, Mjolnir practically flew up from the ground when he tugged, as if she’d been waiting for an invitation to rise. Having put all his might into lifting the hammer, Loki overbalanced and found himself on the floor, feeling much more confused than he liked to be, staring at the hammer that he shouldn’t have been worthy of holding that he now clutched in his hand. 

There was a split second of silence as the rest of the assembly registered what they’d just witnessed, before the throne room burst into yells of protest, confusion, and anger. Off to the side somewhere, Loki could hear what he recognized as Barton’s voice, shouting profanities. Shock registered on Odin, Frigga, and Thor’s faces, before their expressions dissolved into others – anger, love, and pride, respectively. 

“Brother,” Thor said, striding from his position by the platform to come stand by Loki, arms open as if to embrace his once-brother. But the second prince did not want that – he scrambled to his feet, holding out the hammer in a manner he hoped appeared threatening and not ridiculous. He had no intention to use Mjolnir’s power. He frankly had no clue how to do so. He just did not want to feel Thor's touch, to put up with his questions and his guilt and his pity. The clamoring of the watching people covered a low grumbling that Loki could feel more than hear.

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw that the oh-so-heroic Avengers had spilled out of their seats to join Thor on the floor of the throne room. 

“Friends,” Thor beamed, “isn’t this excellent?”

“Excellent is not how I would define this,” the non-threatening man who contained the Hulk. He eyed Loki warily. 

“Unexpected, perhaps,” added the Ironman. He too eyed Loki, but more out of curiosity than suspicion. 

Further talk was cut off by the All-Father’s terrifying bellow of “SILENCE” from the royal platform as he restored order to the throne room. His command was immediately followed and gazes fixed once more on his commanding figure. Thor and the Avengers did not move from Loki’s side. 

“Loki of Jotunheim,” Odin sneered, not even bothering to hide his contempt for the prisoner, “what trick is this?”

“Trick?” Loki nearly dropped Mjolnir from shock, unrelated to the hammer’s power. 

“Yes,” the All-Father said impatiently. “For surely, it is the only way you have accomplished this task.”

Anger that had been sleepily stirring inside of Loki now roared in reawakened rage. He tried to keep a clamp on his ire – wrath made him more impulsive, like Thor, and Loki liked to be in control of things. Control, he’d learned, came with use of words, not use of actions. He took a deep breath, trying somewhat desperately to minimize his fury, trying to concentrate on the words he wished to speak, before his anger got the better of him and boiled over. 

But if there was one thing Loki had struggled with during his eight months of isolation, it was his anger management. He’d spent the first two and a half months screaming himself hoarse at the walls of the prison, his silver tongue forgotten as he let out the rage and loathing that had brewed inside him for months. Perhaps that was why the Banner man Hulked out when he was angry – Loki had felt certain power and satisfaction shrieking at nothing, and taking out his anger. And the masterful control he’d once had over his emotions was weak, and his anger at Odin, at Thor, at the Avengers, at Thanos, at the Chitauri, at his miserable, failing life, at everyone who ever existed, exploded. Mjolnir vibrated wildly in his hands, and Loki’s vision was red. There was a blinding flash of light, and shouting. 

Then all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you made it through the first round! I'll give you a break before you attempt to survive the second. 
> 
> I'm thinking that this story will only be a couple of chapters long, because I don't want to write a ten-chapter story because I'm lazy and I also lack commitment. 
> 
> Sorry about Odin's character. I honestly don't know how I feel about him but I'm verging on dislike. Obviously, I'm not perfect, even if I like to think I am, so if there's any blaring errors or if Steve (I don't think I mentioned him but whatever) is acting like Tony or the like please point out my idiocy. Let me know what you think, I'm always looking for feedback on my writing so that I can improve. The next chapter will be *SPOILER IF ANYONE CARES* about Tom in Asgard *END SPILER I GUESS* and I'm debating whether or not he should tell the characters the future or not. Please let me know. Thanks for spending time reading this. It means a lot.


	2. Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much confusion ensues, Loki is WHAT, and Natasha is the first to figure out what has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS! Omigosh, thank you so much for the kind reviews and the kudos. I was not expecting that and it really made my day/week/month/life. I was super excited to get started on chapter 2 and I have the first bit of chapter 3 done but I don't know when I'll get the latter out. I really hope this chapter delivers, I worked and reworked it and it's still not my favorite so I MIGHT come back and edit, so please leave me feedback on what/if anything needs changing. Thank you so much again.

There was shouting, and lots of it. Everything he could see was white, and there was ringing in his ears. Where on earth was he? He was lying face-down on the ground, limbs splayed, his chest heaving for breath that had somehow been knocked out of him. His mind was a cascade of confused, coalescing thoughts that were indistinguishable. He couldn’t remember anything of importance – namely, where he was, what had happened, why he was suddenly laying face down in carpet. With a groan, he rolled over and almost immediately regretted the move, as he was assaulted by light. Blinking the brightness and blurriness out of his sensitive eyes, he tried to fight pass the massive headache that was pounding his head and tried to make out the room he was in which he now lay. 

Through a haze, he suddenly made out the shape of a face. A familiar face. Long blonde hair. Worried blue eyes. That ridiculous red cape. Was that…Thor? He bit back a laugh. Of course it wasn’t. How could it be? It wouldn’t make sense. 

“Brother?”

So maybe it was Thor. But no, that’s ridiculous, he thought. Thor wasn’t….

Forming a coherent thought was troublesome. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and sleep. But his interest was piqued, and he tried to voice aloud his confusion. In his mouth, his tongue flopped around like a dead fish, but he finally managed to utter the name of the man above him, his voice as thick and slow molasses. 

“Chris?” 

Though the groggy man on the floor did not see it through a haze of confusion and tiredness, Thor exchanged concerned looks with his fellow Avengers. The god of thunder had been one of the few who had not been blinded by the bright light that had drowned the room, but he had not been able to process what he’d seen among all the chaos. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Loki had lifted Mjolnir. Perhaps the strain or the shock of wielding the weapon was taking its toll on Loki. 

He knelt by the prone man. “Brother, are you all right? What happened?”

It was difficult to hear Loki in all the havoc of the throne room. Doors had been heaved open, and some of the assembly that had gathered for Loki’s second trial had fled the palace, their minds burned with everything they had just witnessed. The remaining majority whirled around like lost snowflakes, speaking loudly amongst themselves, muddled expressions on their faces. The All-Father had returned, seething, to his throne, to watch events unfold, for once unsure of how to proceed. Frigga had risen from her throne, but she hovered next to her husband, just as uncertain. Unseen to those gathered around Loki, a young Asgardian medic hovered nearby – her superiors had disappeared at a time unknown to her, and in her inexperience, she was not certain if her offered help would be welcome.

“Loki?” it was Bruce who spoke this time, when the god on the floor seemed to not hear or acknowledge Thor’s questions, opting instead for rolling his head around and squinting his eyes. Medical instincts kicking in, Bruce dropped to the floor, checking the man’s vitals. 

It was strange, the doctor thought as he examined the prisoner, for though this man seemed to be Loki, there was something…different about him. He appeared to be more substantial – the prisoner’s garb he wore suddenly didn’t seem so huge, and Loki looked…softer, almost, though Bruce wasn’t sure that was the exact word with which he would describe the god. The Loki who now lay on the floor of the throne room looked less like a man who had suffered through an eight month period of isolation after attempting to take over a realm, and more like just…a normal, non-genocidal guy. 

Thor continued to ask questions of well being to his brother, but still the younger did not respond. He’d stopped moving now, though Bruce was unsure whether or not it was due to pain, or just wishing that everything would go away. His eyes had fluttered closed, and his breaths came in short, panicked bursts. 

“Loki?” the doctor tried again. He needed to make sure that the god had not passed out on him.

Said person’s eyes opened again, just the slightest, and then slid closed once more. “Chris? Why are you in costume? We’re not supposed to be filming, are we? I thought we were going to dinner with the others.”

“Looks like Reindeer Games has finally cracked,” Tony snarked from somewhere to Bruce’s left. There was the sound of someone being smacked and an ‘ow, what was that for, Spangles?’ from the billionaire. 

Bruce only half-heard the bickering between Tony and Steve – he was too intent on his patient. He muttered to Loki, whose eyes slid open and closed, attempting to keep the god awake, and tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with the guy. 

“This is not the time for jesting, Man of Iron,” came Thor’s grave voice, cutting across the banter. He gave the doctor a concerned look. “What is the matter with my brother?”

Loki’s eyes had slipped closed once more and had not reopened. Bruce leaned back, deducing that the god had finally slithered into the realm of unconsciousness. “We need to get him to a hospital. Or whatever the Asgardian version of a hospital is.”

At these words, the young medic who’d been observing quietly from the side moved forward, deciding that, perhaps, it was her aid would be welcomed. “Excuse me,” she intoned quietly, “I believe that I can help.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Bruce moved away from Loki to allow the young woman better access to the patient. She too checked his vitals, and then performed several other operations that required waving her arms around and chanting in an ominous undertone and were probably Aesir specialties of a sort, because Bruce had no idea what she was doing and had never seen any human doctor use this technique. 

Finally, she leaned back. “Uh…” she said tentatively, looking from one Avenger’s face to another, as if she didn’t know whom to focus on as she spoke. Finally, she settled on Thor, and continued with her diagnosis. “Your Majesty, the prisoner’s – “ she started once more, only to reconsider her word choice and amend her statement – “the prince’s condition does not require treatment. There has merely been a shock to his system. He needs to rest for a little, and then that should…should be all.”

As the young medic spoke, Frigga made her way elegantly down to her son’s side, her mesmerizing dress trailing behind her, moving like liquid gold around her feet. Her lips were pursed, her face the paragon of a concerned mother. Thor nodded gravely as the Aesir doctor finished. “That is very good to hear. Do you know what has happened?”

The woman shook her head. “My apologies, Your Highness. My analysis spells do not reveal the answer that you seek.” She hesitated, wringing her hands out of nervous habit. “There is one thing, and for all my knowledge, I cannot figure out the reason for this occurrence – it appears that sometime in the last few minutes, Loki has changed.” 

“Go on,” Thor prompted when she again lapsed into silence. 

Weary of over half a dozen intent gazes upon her, she took a breath, as if the words she would speak were heavy, and she was preparing herself for their weight. “To put it lightly…Loki is now completely mortal.”

The silence that met her words was somehow greater than all of the quiets that had been heard that day. It dragged on, it seemed, for a small eternity, and without Odin’s domineering presence, there was nobody to look to for the next words. The medic looked very much like she wished she had never stepped forth to help, and cast a wary eye out for one of her superiors.

It was Tony, naturally, who broke the silence. “So if I wield Mjolnir, will I become a god?” he asked, his tone half-joking as he eyed the hammer, which now rested by Loki's head, with interest. Steve rolled his eyes at the billionaire’s antics, while Clint looked at the hammer in detached interest, as though he was wondering the same thing as Tony.

“That is not the way of Mjolnir,” Thor said, staring down at the man who was and was not his brother in confusion. He lifted Mjolnir and stared at the weapon warily, the polished Uru of the hammer's head practically glowing in the Aesir sunlight that filtered in through the throne room's many windows. 

Frigga nodded. “This has the makings of magic beyond our vast knowledge. Never in my life time have I heard of someone switching their species.” She looked to the medic, who bowed her head to show respect for her queen. “Completely mortal, my dear? Not a trace of his true heritage?”

“None at all, My Queen,” the medic replied. “I am little more than an apprentice, but I can run my spells once more - I admit they may have been faulty.”

“Then do so, though I do not doubt your ability,” Frigga commanded. “We must be absolutely certain. Is there any chance you might revive him, so that we may speak? Loki may know something that we do not.” 

The young woman did not answer the All-Mother's question, as she was once again waving her arms above Loki’s still form, her lips moving in a lilting song that could only be heard by ears that knew what it already sounded like. For once, she seemed unaffected by the stares she was receiving – not just from the small group clustered around her, but also Odin, Sif and the Warriors Three, Jane (who’d remained in her seat), and some of the nearest Aesir. Her mouth stopped moving and her eyes closed, before she shook her head, a frown on her smooth face. 

“Is Loki tricking us?” asked Barton, a hand on his bow. “Using, I don’t know, his magic? What if he’s still himself and he’s messing with us? This could just be one of his tricks, you know.”

“I would agree, friend Clint,” Thor said, “only my father has placed a spell on this hall, preventing anyone but himself from performing magic of any kind. Therefore, it is not possible for Loki to be tricking us.”

“Yeah, but since when has Loki known the difference between possible and not possible?” the archer retorted. “As much as I hate to say it, the guy’s really powerful. I’m sure he could out thwart the oh-so-great All-Father.”

“Careful how you speak of my father,” Thor half-threatened, but he seemed too distracted to properly defend Odin, who, from his perch on the throne, glowered down at Clint, but made no other move. Stone-faced but clearly angry, the All-Father sat frozen as though in deep thought. Had his eyes been closed, he might've been in Odin-sleep, or perhaps in de but those who knew him well knew he was simply waiting. Like a lion stalking prey and finding the exact moment to strike and kill, so the All-Father sat, gaining the presented information so he could use it in his favor.

“Medical magic is a delicate process,” Frigga now explained to the mortals, her gaze wandering briefly to her stilled husband before roaming back. “It requires tremendous skill and effort, but it is specifically designed to detect magical enchantments. If this change was of Loki’s design – perhaps an illusion – then we would know within the moment.”

“Completely mortal, and not a trace of Loki’s magic,” the medic confirmed, her analysis finished, rising to her feet. “If one of my superiors were here, I’m sure they would be able to tell you what happened.”

“Do not worry,” Frigga said gently, smiling to show that she had been correct about magic. “Let us move Loki into another room, away from prying eyes, so that we might talk to him in private, when he wakes up.”

Still smiling warmly, she beckoned for the small group surrounding Loki to follow her. Thor and a reluctant Clint lifted Loki up, and made their way out of the throne room. As they passed the first few rows of seats, Jane and the Aesir warriors were absorbed into the ensemble. Odin, however, remained a glowering statue on the royal platform, making neither a move to follow his wife, son, and their friends, nor to silence the chaos that still continued in the throne room. 

“Lay him here,” Frigga instructed in the privacy of one of the palace’s many guest rooms. “There we are. My dear,” she went on to the nervous medic, as the Avengers, Jane, and Sif and the Warriors Three filed into the room, “what is your name?"

The younger woman hesitated before replying, "Ásjá."

"Thank you for all of your help, Ásjá," the All-Mother went on. "I will remember what you have done for us, and it will only benefit your future. Now, would you mind returning to the throne room in search of another medic, to confirm your analysis on Loki?”

Ásjá, looking strangely terrified that her queen now knew her name, gave a quick nod accompanied by a, “Yes, My Queen,” before she turned tail and fled the room.

No sooner after the door had closed behind her, there was a gasp that came from Loki’s lips. The sound caused a minor bout of panic in the room’s occupants, and Thor, Frigga, and Bruce all rushed to the bed that the no-longer-unconscious man occupied. 

Natasha found herself reaching for one of her many concealed weapons hidden on her form, despite believing that Loki would do them no harm. She firmly believed that this change was not of Loki’s doing, for she could not find a plausible motive for him turning himself into a human, so she deduced that it had to be an outside force of some kind. The god-no-longer looked pale and shaken, and though he certainly looked like the crazy man who’d tried to take over Midgard, he no longer seemed as threatening or dangerous as he had been in the throne room – perhaps because he was now mortal – and she highly doubted that he would be causing any damage in the near future. Still, it was better to play it safe than sorry, so she wrapped her hand around the handle of the concealed gun in a casual manner, ready to pull it out and shoot at a moment’s notice. 

Keeping her distance, the assassin approached the foot of the bed, examining Loki’s face, looking for any sign of recognition in the eyes. But much like Bruce, Thor, and even Frigga, she found herself perplexed and slightly alarmed – though her face didn’t show it – at the pure terror and confusion on the woken man’s face. 

She could tell Bruce, despite his medical instincts, was hesitant to touch Loki when the latter looked so fearful, unsure of what reaction would be caused by physical contact. The doctor’s hands were up, as though he’d been reaching for the prisoner when he’d decided against it, but then frozen in deliberating uncertainty. Thor looked as though he wished to say something, but no words came to his tongue, so he did not speak. 

It was the Loki in the bed who spoke first. “What scene is this? I don’t remember reading anything in the script featuring Loki, surrounded by the Avengers and – “ he saw Frigga’s face, and if anything, looked even more baffled and terrified – “how is Frigga here?”

While Natasha, her mind working furiously to figure out the meaning behind the confused god’s words, and the others digested this sentence, Loki looked around, his face twisting, his eyes questioning. He continued, “If we’re filming, where are the camera and crew? The lights, the microphones? And aren’t we worried about plot holes and inconsistencies? What is happening?”

The same question echoed through the minds of everyone else, but unfortunately, nobody had an answer. Thor, wary of the tricks he knew his brother was fond of, spoke, his tone cautious, a hand wrapped around Mjolnir, just to be safe. “Brother?”

The Loki in the bed gave him a strange look. “Chris? Is this a prank? If so, you got me – Hahaha.”

Concern showing all over her beautiful features, Frigga took what she thought was her son’s hands and clasped them to her chest. “My dear Loki, what has happened to you? Do you remember what has just passed?”

“Rene, I know you’re playing a trick,” Loki said, attempting to pull his hands away. “You don’t need to keep pretending.”

“You are the only one who is playing a trick, brother,” Thor said, his voice grave, as Frigga released her not-son’s hands, as though she'd been burned, and moved to sit down in a chair by the side of the bed,

“Chris, please, stop,” Thor's younger brother pleaded. “This is really starting to creep me out, even though I know this isn’t possible and it’s just you guys all dressed up in costume. Right, Mark?” Despite his clear attempt to convince himself of the truth in his worlds, he sounded and looked increasingly unsure. He gazed around, his eyes pleading with everyone who made eye contact with him, begging them to recognize him and give in, confessing that, yes, indeed, this was all some elaborate prank to freak him out, and now they were done. “Robert, Scarlett, Chris, Jeremy?”

This sequence of names added another dash of confusion to the already very confused room. Natasha squinted her eyes at Loki, the man she hated. A bizarre, insane, and very, very unlikely suspicion was quickly forming in her mind, and she hardly dared to investigate the idea further, because if what she thought was true…well, that brought a very, very alarming perspective to the world and everything she knew about it. 

“You’re not Loki, are you?” Natasha asked from the foot of the bed. Her face, though still a mask of practiced expressionlessness, was beginning to crack – it was made of china, and she feared the words that Loki-not-Loki would utter next would shatter the delicate material. 

“Well, yes I am,” apparently-actually-Loki said, but then added, “but not really. I mean, I play Loki.”

“What do you mean, ‘play Loki’?" demanded Thor. "What have you done to my brother?"

While the thunder god and several others, including Tony – (genius as he was, he could be downright idiotic when it came to the most obvious things) – remained clueless, Natasha felt her neutral exterior crumbling. No. She backed away from the bed, denial suddenly seizing her in its panicked grip. No no no no. She felt her rationality falter. No. She was real. She was an actual human being. She was Natasha Alianovna Romanoff, the Black Widow, spy and assassin, agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and a member of the Avengers. She had a history, a backstory, a childhood that she knew to be real. It couldn't all be an elaborate fabrication for entertainment purposes. She knew she was real. She had to be real. But if – if what this Loki-not-Loki was saying was true, then it meant everything and everyone – herself included – was nothing more than an intricate lie. 

And even for the cool and collected Natasha Romanoff, this was too much to handle. After all, wouldn’t the knowledge that you are nothing more than a character shake you to your core? If she was just a made-up story...she felt white-hot anger washing through her being. She wanted to strangle someone, but then again, that wouldn't change anything. She was powerless, and there was nothing worse than that.

The assassin said the next words out loud, to confirm her worst suspicions. She wondered how everyone else would react the realization. If she was handling this poorly, then she knew that it might destroy others as they tried to comprehend the truth. 

“You play Loki,” she said, maintaining a smooth voice despite her inner turmoil. “In a movie. Wherever you come from, we are little more than characters, am I correct.”

It was not a question. It was quiet acceptance of the truth. And Loki-not-Loki confirmed it, his eyes growing even wider. “Yes, but Scarlett, you’re well aware of that…you play Natasha Romanoff…unless…” and here, a look of shock and sudden comprehension spread over his face. He reached up and grasped long locks of black hair that was ever so greasy from his time in isolation. With a tug, he’d pulled his entire mane off of his head, causing a shriek of horror to be pulled from Frigga’s lips and a gasp of surprise from others. 

“What trickery is this?” Sif demanded, suddenly on her feet, a knife in her hand, gazing at Loki-not-Loki with a murderous expression. “What have you done with the second prince of Asgard?”

The man in the bed stared at the wig that was now in his hands. Without the long black locks, he was revealed to have a head of short, light brown hair, and suddenly, he seemed very out of place sitting next to Frigga and Thor in their Asgardian wear. 

“Where is Loki? Where is my son?” the Queen of Asgard demanded, looking alarmed and livid at this reveal. 

“This isn’t a trick, is it?” asked Loki-not-Loki, suddenly wary. He did not wait for a response. “This really is Asgard. This is all real. You’re all real. You’re not actors. This isn’t a set.”

“Brother – or, strange man who strongly resembles my brother – please explain,” Thor beseeched. While Frigga and Bruce had backed away, fearing that something beyond their understanding was afoot, Thor now sat on the edge of the bed, both his hands on Loki’s shoulders, his eyes imploring. 

“I am not your brother,” the man said, suddenly sounding very much like the character he played. “This is hard for me to say but…my name is Tom Hiddleston. Like Ms. Romanoff said, where I come from, you are not real. You are…characters in movies. And I play Loki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not exactly the most climactic ending...sorry.


	3. Concerned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Tom okay, how DARE you, insignificant mortals, Loki is confused and doesn't like it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone so long! And after this I will probably disappear for a while again. 
> 
> I had the beginning of this chapter done long ago, it was the ending I struggled with. I feel like everybody is out of character, which is ironic because technically they aren't characters, they're actual humans, but in this they're just characters. Anyway I've reworked this chapter so many times and even though I'm still not happy with it, here it is. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kind reviews, bookmarks and kudos! You guys are amazing!!!
> 
> Also I think I'm going to change the number of expected chapters to five with the latest developments...
> 
> Minor language, if that bothers anyone. As in, maybe three swear words. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me and please enjoy!

There was shouting, and lots of it. Everything he could see was white, and there was ringing in his ears. Where in all the Nine Realms was he? He was lying face-down on the ground, limbs splayed, his chest heaving for breath that had somehow been knocked out of him. His mind was a cascade of confused, coalescing thoughts that were indistinguishable. He couldn’t remember anything of importance – namely, where he was, what had happened, why he was suddenly laying face down in carpet. With a groan, he rolled over and almost immediately regretted the move, as he was assaulted by light. Blinking the brightness and blurriness out of his sensitive eyes, he tried to fight pass the massive headache that was pounding his head and tried to make out the room he was in which he now lay. The screams faded, now nothing more than distant echoes of lost souls. How poetic.

Through a haze, he suddenly made out the shape of a face. A familiar face. Short, brown hair. Worried blue eyes. Was that…Thor? He bit back a laugh. Of course it wasn’t. How could it be? It wouldn’t make sense. It was another hallucination, induced by months of isolation.

“Tom?”

And who was Tom? The guy whose face swam above him was so like Thor and so unlike him… 

Forming a coherent thought was troublesome. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and sleep. But his interest was piqued, and he tried to voice aloud his confusion. In his mouth, his tongue flopped around like a dead fish as speech eluded him, but he finally managed to utter the name of the man above him, his voice as thick and slow molasses. 

“Thor?” 

Though the groggy man on the floor did not see it through a haze of confusion and tiredness, the man who strongly resembled Thor exchanged concerned looks with his fellow actors. He and his friends had dropped by after Tom hadn’t picked up any phone calls, and had run late to their scheduled lunch to celebrate the success of their movie. 

“Really thinking he had too much to drink last night,” said a voice that sounded strangely like that of the irritating mortal, Tony Stark or whatever his name was. 

“Don’t be silly, Robert,” said another voice that sounded like the Barton man. “He hardly touched his drink.”

“Tom, are you all right? What happened?” not-Thor said, his brow furrowed deeply in confusion as he dropped to kneel by the other’s side. Loki felt a large, warm hand on his forehead, and, offended and bewildered by the action, wondered what the Thor-guy thought he was doing. 

Despite protesting limbs and the headache pounding his temples, Loki leapt to his feet. He would not remain in that vulnerable position, at the mercy of these pathetic, confused mortals. 

“Do not touch me, fool,” he snarled. He was so done with everything. It was all coming back to him – the throne room, eight months in isolation, Thor, picking up Mjolnir, the bright light – and now this, whatever this was – it was too much. His obedient demeanor in the throne room may have fooled Thor and his mother, but that was not and would never be him. He may have lifted Mjolnir, but whatever implications that action held were meaningless. His isolation had not shaped him as much as Odin had hoped for. Perhaps Loki no longer held any desire to take over Midgard – honestly, even as he’d been doing that, he really hadn’t been interested in ruling mortals – but he retained his icy and guarded exterior. 

This must be another trick of Odin’s, to make Loki suffer even more than he already had.

And Loki would not, under no circumstance, play nice, especially to strange mortals when he had no idea what was happening. 

At the god’s menacing demand, Chris raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, bro, I’m sorry. I was just checking to make sure you’re all right.”

Feeling validated but still confused by Thor’s demeanor, Loki cast a suspicious and analyzing eye around the room he was in. It appeared to be a Midgardian hotel room, for he highly doubted that anyone could possibly live permanently in such small quarters. He was aware of the Avengers – dressed not in their usual attire, oddly, but rather cheap Midgardian wear – standing by an ajar door that opened out into a hallway, but as they had not made moves to threaten him, he did not attack. He tucked the door into his mind, in case the situation proved to require an escape route. The Avengers stood around the door, but they looked unguarded and relaxed, and Loki was sure it would be easy to run by them without anybody stopping him before it was too late. 

But first, it was mandatory that he figured out where and when he was, and what was happening. 

“What is this place, mortal?” Loki hissed at the man who looked like Thor.

“Tom?” asked Chris, looking slightly annoyed at the question. For the first time, Loki noted that this man spoke with an unfamiliar accent that only pathetic humans spoke with. Thor’s uncivilized-ness never surprised Loki, and the former was very fond of stooping to the lowly levels of humans, but to speak without the Asgardian lilt Thor had been raised with? It concerned Loki, to say the least.

“Look, can you drop the act?” Thor continued, and Loki’s eyebrows continued to rise higher and higher. “I’m starving, and I want to get some lunch. If you insist, you can keep your costume on, although where you got the clothes from is beyond me.”

Offended, Loki echoed, “Costume?”

He looked down at himself. He was dressed in his prisoner garb and suddenly felt mortified that these mortals had seen him in such disgraceful attire. With a wave of his hand, his ragged clothing was replaced by something much more familiar – his Asgardian armor, sans the horned helmet. As much as Loki hated to admit it, he had a fear that the man who looked and sounded like the Man of Iron would begin calling him Reindeer Games. 

This use of magic caused the looks of shock to flicker across the foolish mortals’ faces. Why were they so surprised? The Avengers had fought against Loki and won, though it was bitter for the fallen god to admit. Surely, they knew that Loki possessed magic?

“Is this a trick?” asked the man who resembled Stark. As much as Loki hated the Avengers, the Ironman was the least bothersome. Or perhaps the most, but at least the man had brains and could be funny, which Loki could appreciate. These qualities, Loki decided, deemed the millionaire worthy of the trickster god’s attention. He faced the mortal.

“I would not be the correct man to ask, son of Stark,” Loki spat. “For if this was a trick, then surely, you would know.” He whirled back to face his older brother, who was looking increasingly worried. “Now, where is Odin? I wish to speak with him.”

“Odin?” echoed one of the mortals. A woman, so probably the obnoxious yet clever Russian spy, Romanoff or whatever her name was. Loki did not bother to turn around and face her. She had yet to pose a threat to him, which was very unlike her. Very unlike all of these Avengers, really. Their behavior proved that Odin was tricking him, Loki thought. For if these were really that Norns forsaken team of living action figures, then Loki would be in chains, muzzled, and probably on the way to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters right now. Not without putting up a good fight, of course, but after spending months in the dungeon, one does weaken quite a bit. 

“I know this is part of my punishment,” he hissed. The increasing looks of confusion on the mortals’ faces were very disconcerting, and Loki’s menacing mask was beginning to slip. There was a sinking pit in his stomach that he couldn’t explain. This had to be some nasty trick of the Allfather’s, designed to make the trickster feel remorse. It must be. Now Loki simply had to figure out how to escape. The door to the hallway was likely not an option. Perhaps it would lead to something even worse.

“Punishment?” it was Thor speaking again. “Tom, what the hell is going on? Is this some prank you’re playing on us? Are there cameras capturing our reactions right now?” The blonde looked around at the corners of the hotel room, as though looking for something.

Loki blinked. “What is this place, mortal?” he questioned again, trying a new route. It was best to keep the enemy talking in unknown situations. Also, because he had absolutely no idea what in Helheim Thor was talking about. 

“It’s the hotel we’ve been staying at for the last three weeks, Tom,” Thor said, taking a seat on the one bed in the room. The rest of the Avengers, as though sensing it would be a while before they would be leaving, filed over to the single couch in the room and sat down, fixing Loki with gazes that ranged from concerned to confused, to, in the case of one Tony Stark, downright amused. 

“Ah,” Loki said in response to his older brother’s answer. Older not-brother, he reminded himself. We were never related. “And I presume we are on Midgard?”

Busy pacing – (pacing was one of the habits Loki had picked up because he knew it made him seem more menacing) – he did not see the looks exchanged by the Avengers. 

“Where else would we be, Tom?” asked the man who looked like Captain America. Loki felt his lips curl in disgust. If the son of Stark was Loki’s favorite Avenger – favorite being an extreme overstatement – perhaps most tolerable would be a better description – than Captain America was the one the god despised the most. He was the exact opposite of Loki – good to the core, noble, honest, respectable and respecting, and he probably enjoyed getting called for jury duty. Basically, somebody who Loki found very boring and obnoxious. 

So, mustering as much spite and hatred as he could given his complete and utter confusion, Loki ignored the soldier. Instead he continued to look at the man who was supposed to be Thor but, as Loki continued to observe the man’s behavior, clearly wasn’t. 

“Yes, we are on Midgard, Tom,” said Thor in exasperation. “Of course, we normally just call it Earth, but since you’re insisting on pretending to be Loki or whatever, sure, we are on Midgard.”

Loki was unsure what to make of these words. 

“Is this a promotion of some sort?” now it was Banner who spoke up. 

“That’s what I was thinking,” said the Black Widow in agreement. “Although, I feel cheated that only Tom gets to dress up as his character.”

“What’s the point of the promotion, though?” wondered the insufferable Captain America. “The movies been out for months at this point.”

“Movie?” echoed Loki. “Of what movie do you speak?”

Now the Avengers were eying him very weirdly. 

“Tom, d’you feel alright, mate?” asked Thor. 

“’Mate?’” Loki repeated incredulously. “Are you sure you feel alright, Thor?”

“Chris, I think we’re missing something,” said Romanoff. She gave Loki a strange look. “I get a feeling this isn’t a promotion or a prank.”

“What? Did Tom knock his head real hard and wake up with an identity crisis?” Stark mocked, only to be elbowed rudely in the ribs by his female costar. “OW!”

“Tom, what’s the last thing you remember?” asked Barton, leaning towards Loki. The trickster felt unnerved by the unhidden concern in the archer’s eyes. No, that expression, that expression of friendly worry, was wrong on so many levels. Barton hated Loki. Loki wasn't particularly fond of the mortal, either. Nothing would ever change that. 

Loki ceased his pacing and stared at Hawkeye, still trying to discern whether this was all some huge trick by Odin’s hand. He half-expected his surroundings to shimmer and fade away and to find himself standing once more in the throne room, thousands of Aesir jeering nastily at him because, naturally, he’d failed to lift the hammer and simply hallucinated picking up Mjolnir. Perhaps Odin would suddenly yell, “April Fools” or whatever that silly Midgardian day was. Although, Odin was about as mischievous as a turtle, so perhaps the idea was rather far-fetched. 

“Who is this ‘Tom’ you speak of?” he asked, diverting the question Barton had asked him and demanding one of his own. 

Instead of answering him, Thor stood up. “I think we should call the hospital. I’m starting to get really worried.”

“Agreed,” Banner said, reaching for the phone on the bedside table. Instantly, Loki felt magic surge to his fingertips. Banner shrieked almost comically as the phone transformed into a writhing mass of snake, which fell promptly to the floor and evaporated into green smoke. 

“Do not mock me,” Loki demanded. “I will not be taken to this ‘hospital’. Your foolish mortal technology is no match for me! For I am Loki, of Jotunheim!”

Disappointment surged through him when the mortals failed to look impressed or cower in fear. 

“Yeah, whatever dude,” said Stark. “Right now, you just seem like Wacko, of Crazyville.”

“How dare you!” Loki hissed, ceasing his pacing. “I have lived for thousands of years! I have faced countless of enemies and won endless battles! I have – “

“Okay, okay, chill, mate,” Thor said, standing up from the bed and putting a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder. “We’re just concerned about you, Tom. You’re acting very strange and we – “

“Do not call me Tom! How dare you compare me to a mere mortal! I am a god, you fool!” Bristling, Loki backed away from the blonde man. His confusion was making him more irritable than ever, and he disliked that he could not figure out what was going on.

“Fine, fine, Loki, we’ll call you Loki,” Banner said. Mark’s brain felt like it was wading through melted marshmallows, because he thought he knew what was happening, and really, really didn’t want it to be true. Well, he kind of wanted it to be true, because it would be kind of cool to meet the Hulk in real life, but at the same time, it make absolutely no sense and…

Loki seemed appeased for the moment, but still on edge. There was a glint in his green eyes that reminded Chris of a trapped animal, and he was confused and concerned for the man he thought of as his brother, on set and in real life. He’d never seen Tom act this way, so out of character, when he wasn’t supposed to be in character. Tom was a very good actor, but he had a good sense of humor, and if this – whatever this whole thing had been – was really a prank, then Chris would’ve been able to tell. Something would’ve given it away. But this seemed too real. It was almost like Tom was not Tom and Loki was actually here. But that couldn’t be. Thor and Loki and Asgard…that was all fake. It was all a story…right?

“I have had enough,” Loki now announced. His pacing resumed once more. “Are you not the Avengers? I am your enemy! Fight me, then! Chain me up and bring me to your ‘high-tech’ headquarters and triumph that you have once again defeated Loki, God of Mischief and Lies!”

This outburst was met with silence. The actors were thinking, working out what exactly was going on. A few, like Mark, Scarlett, Chris, and other Chris, seemed like they had figured the situation out. The others still looked mystified. Except for Robert. He was trying not to laugh. 

“But you won’t fight!” Loki continued when not a single hero made a move to attack him. He was triumphant, for if the Avengers truly would not fight him, if they truly seemed concerned about him as they appeared to be, then this proved that this was all a cruel trick of Odin’s, the second stage in Loki’s punishment. Well, it wouldn’t work. Loki was the God of Mischief. Tricks and illusions were his specialty. 

“Why would we fight you, T – uh, Loki?” Jeremy asked, but the god wasn’t listening. He had a triumphant, almost maniacal grin upon his thin face as he strode quickly over to the slightly-open door.

“Tom, what are you doing?” Chris asked, though he had a horrible idea of what the man was doing. No, that was not Tom. Chris knew for sure now. That was Loki. And Loki was going to escape. Out of the hotel room, out of the hotel, into the city. And if Loki was like anything like he was in the movie, than Los Angeles was probably in big trouble. Somebody like Loki would love to take over such a big city. They had to stop him. 

But Loki, even thin and weakened as he appeared to be, was still Loki. A god. With magic. And Chris and the others, they weren’t actually superheroes. Without the cameras and the acting and the special effects and makeup, they were powerless. Human. How could they possibly stop a god bent on possibly taking over the world?

“Come back here, Loki, do not leave the room, come back!”

The shout was useless. Chris was on his feet, running. Behind him, his fellow actors stood up from their seats on the couch, exchanging wary looks. Chris made to grab Loki, but the god simply laughed, his face sneering. He didn’t even need to say “Pathetic mortals” to convey his thoughts and contempt for the humans. They weren’t the Avengers. The Avengers had always been weak and powerless, but now, they could do absolutely nothing to stop him. Where was Thor’s lightning? Where was Mjolnir? Where was Stark’s suit of armor, or Hawkeye’s arrows, or Captain America’s patriotic suit of spandex? 

An illusion, of course. If Loki could escape the room, he was certain he could destroy the trick. With Chris’s hands reaching for his arm, to hold him back, to stop him, Loki laughed. Golden light surrounded him, and suddenly, Chris’s fingers closed around nothing. The god was simply…gone. 

If there had been any doubt before, it was completely erased. Chris swore.

“Holy shit,” Robert said. “That was really him. That was really Loki. Here. In this room.”

Chris nodded gravely, much like his character Thor would in serious moments. “Yes. And now he’s escaped. We don’t know where to. And we don’t know what he will do now.”

With a similar serious nod, Scarlett stepped forward. “But more importantly…where is...or...what the hell happened to Tom?”


	4. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's Avengers: Infinity War, Hawkeye is salty about the whole mind-control thing, story time, ToNY NO, Robert just wants to eat food, and Avengers, Assemble!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry that I haven't updated in ages. School's started, and the last few weeks of summer vacation were hectic. 
> 
> Anyway, I tried to make this chapter a bit longer to make up for the long wait. I really hope it's realistic and convincing - as always, that's another reason it takes me so long to update because I always feel like all the characters are wrong...I especially had difficulty with the actual actors...:( 
> 
> So here's to hoping this turned out alright. I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for all the kind comments and the kudos! You guys really motivated me to keep writing, and faster too. 
> 
> By the way, in case it's not obvious, I DO NOT OWN MARVEL CHARACTERS OR THE AVENGERS OR ANYTHING ELSE YOU RECOGNIZE.

“So let’s pretend that what you’re saying is true. You’re from another dimension, where all of us are just characters in movies, and you play Loki?” 

Tony Stark was many things. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. Genius. Inventor. Iron Man. But confused? Never. Well, perhaps occasionally, but that was only a minor flaw. But right now was certainly a time for confusion, because suddenly everything he knew (which was a lot) had been ripped away from him, like somebody had just pulled away the chair he was about to sit on, and he was falling to the floor.

The man who played Loki gave him an almost sympathetic look. “I’m afraid that is correct, Mr. Stark.”

“Wow, okay,” Tony said, for lack of anything else to say. He found, for one of the few times in his life, that he was completely speechless. 

Tom was amazed at how well everyone was taking this, in all actuality. There had been no shouting, no panic or frantic denying, or claims that he was a liar and was making this all up. Considering he played Loki, the trickster god, he was rather surprised. 

Natasha, being the first to figure it out, had taken a seat at the foot of the bed and was listening to everything he now said, scanning the man’s face for anything that it might give away. It sounded like this Tom Hiddleston knew more about them than he let on, or at least knew some of the future events that were to befall the Avengers and their associates. Fury would definitely want information from this man, and she was going to get as much as she could without asking questions – for now. 

Tony, while clearly having difficulty wrapping his head around the idea that he was simply a made up character, and how the world where this Loki-look-alike came from was not blessed with his existence, found himself becoming increasingly fascinated by this concept of alternate realities. He made a mental checklist, running through a hundred experiments he wanted to perform now that he knew of this parallel world. He was already itching to talk to Bruce about what this all could mean. 

Clint’s face was almost unreadable, but he clenched and unclenched his fist. He’d never been a fan of Loki, but that had nothing to do with the anger he felt stirring in him. If what this Hiddleston guy said was true, and that their lives were simply plots in a movie or whatever, then somebody with a twisted mind had decided that it would be an acceptable form of entertainment to let Loki possess Clint with the mind stone. And that was not okay. He wanted to find whoever came up with that idea and stick an arrow through their head. 

Steve was frowning. Honestly, at this point, he thought he’d seen everything, and that life couldn’t get any weirder. But despite this realization that he was nothing more than a character, he was hardly shaken. He was more concerned with where the real Loki had gone to, and he was figuring…if Tom had come here, than Loki must’ve gone to wherever Tom had been. Which could mean trouble for a world without a team of superheroes to protect them. 

Thor mostly felt worry for his brother. Like Steve, he had a bad feeling as to where Loki may have ended up, but surely he was in no condition to try taking over the world? They would have to ask the Son of Hiddles where he had been, and if there was any way to reach Loki. 

Bruce was probably taking it the worst. He looked on the verge of panicking and though he didn’t feel angry, he had to concentrate on calming the Other Guy. He figured the Hulk wouldn’t be appreciated in a situation like this. 

“Avengers: Infinity War is supposed to come out this year,” Tom was saying. “And I’m assuming this,” here he gestured to the room around him, “happens around Thor: The Dark World? Although, Loki never got a big trial in the script, so this is new. I don’t know what it means for the future, because at the end of Dark World, Loki faked his death and disguised himself as Odin, so things have obviously changed.”

He realized he was rambling. Perhaps all that was not the best thing to say because it certainly did not reflect Loki in a good light. Maybe I should try to talk about some of the God of Mischief’s good deeds, he thought. That might help his case.

However, the people in the room (the real Avengers, the real Frigga, the real Warriors Three, Tom’s brain added, still in disbelief), did not focus on the part concerning Loki. 

“Avengers: Infinity War?” echoed Steve. 

Tom grimaced. “Yeah. Big deal. Thanos and the Infinity Gauntlet. Snaps his fingers, half the universe dies.”

These words got mixed reactions. Clint’s face barely shifted. He could think of a number of people he wouldn’t mind disappearing, Loki included. But then he realized that might include his friends and family, so perhaps the chance of finally being rid of the god of lies wasn’t worth the risk. 

Frigga clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. “But surely not! There are guardians of the universe who will surely protect us from Thanos! The Allfather, the Ancient One, Ego – !”

“Hey, hey, don’t forget about the Avengers,” Tony interrupted in mock offense. “We’ve done a hell of a lot of protecting.”

“Yes well…” Tom hesitated. He hated the idea of announcing that the Avengers split up. “Do you really want to know what happens to you all?”

“Yes,” said Tony. 

“No,” said Steve at the same time, and they both glared at each other. Tom coughed, muttering something that sounded distinctly like “Civil War” under his breath.

“Why wouldn’t you want to know your future?” asked Stark, crossing his arms as he regarded Steve in disbelief.

“It’s not good to know what’s going to happen to you,” Cap answered immediately, crossing his arms as well. “You can’t really live your life that way then, because you already know what you’re going to do!”

“Not necessarily. If – Tom, right? I can call you Tom? If Tom tells us the future and you make a stupid decision, then when the time comes to make the choice, you’ll make a better one, because you know the consequences of the stupid decision,” Tony argued. 

Steve opened his mouth to retort, but Natasha interrupted. “I think it would be helpful to know some of the events that will happen. We can try to stop the bad things before they happen.”

“Agreed,” Hawkeye pitched in.

There was a general murmur of agreement from the remaining Avengers sans Captain America, Frigga, Jane, and the Warriors Three.

“See, Spangles?” Tony smirked at Steve. “Some people know what’s good for them.”

The super soldier just rolled his eyes, but he took a seat on the couch, as though he was preparing to listen to whatever Tom had to say. 

“Take it away, Nostradamus,” Tony said, taking a seat as well. Clint was the only one who stubbornly remained standing, hands on his bow.

Tom shifted, unsure of where to begin. Looking at all these faces around him, he could see the actors and actresses that he was used to working with staring back at him. But unlike what he was used to, on the movie set surrounded by lights and cameras and crew, he couldn’t really see his friends. They were all great at acting, but compared to their true characters – it was completely new, and slightly creepy. There were no hints of the people he knew in their eyes. When Tom looked at Thor, he saw nothing that reminded him of Chris. Hawkeye was perhaps the most drastic, staring coldly at him. He and Jeremy were on joking terms, but Clint was the opposite of humorous. Even Tony Stark, who was literally almost identical to Robert Downey Junior, was different. 

Realizing that the silence had been stretching out for a while, Tom cleared his throat. “Okay, so how long ago was the Battle of New York?” 

“Three months ago, Son of Hiddles,” Thor replied from his seat next to the bed Tom was sitting on, a frown etched on his face. 

“Wow,” the actor managed. He knew that in this universe where he’d woken up, Thor: The Dark World hadn’t happened yet, but hearing it from Thor really put it into perspective. This was so far behind all the movies. There was so much to explain. “Well, I’m not sure if everything’s going to play out the same way in the movies anymore, because this,” he gestured around the room, “never happened.”

Unsure whether or not he was waiting for somebody else to interrupt him, or at least make some comment (nobody did, they all just stared at him), Tom began to tell them as much as he could remember. He started with Jane, how she became a host to the Aether, and the encounter with the Dark Elves, how Loki faked his death and disguised himself as Odin. Unlike the first time he mentioned this last event, there were reactions to this, mostly from Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, who muttered something about Loki being evil. At this outbreak of comments at the end of his summary, Tom paused to regather his thoughts. He was unsure of how much he should reveal to the Avengers, whether he should tell them about Ultron and Sokovia and Wanda and Pietro, and Vision. There was just so much to tell – the Marvel Cinematic Universe was so large and so complicated. And Loki – he still felt as though he should justify some of the trickster’s actions to these heroes, or at least explain his motivations. 

Just as Tom was about to speak up again, there was a knock at the door. This noise caused many of the room’s occupants to jump, finally taking their eyes off of the actor and fixing gazes on the door instead. At the word “Enter,” from a concerned looking Frigga, the young medic who had tended to who she had thought was Loki re-entered, Eir behind her. Upon seeing the second Prince of Asgard sitting up with short blonde hair, she let out a tiny shriek and nearly collapsed; it was Eir who caught her and gave her a worried look before turning to Frigga. Her own look of surprise at Loki’s sudden transformation was smoothly covered by a neutral expression. 

“My Queen,” said the older medic, bowing low. “I apologize that I was not there to tend to Loki earlier. But Asja has told me everything that has transpired. If I may be of any assistance?”

The Queen of Asgard gave a nod of understanding, rising from her seat next to the bed. “Thank you, Eir. Your loyalty and compassion have always been something I have admired of you. But it seems as though my...” here she hesitated, and the reason for why soon became clear when she nearly stumbled over her next words, “son…is perfectly healthy…in fact, other than being human, there appears to be nothing wrong.”

“Human?” Eir echoed, her brows rising on her face. “That is beyond my magical capabilities. Shall I send for the Allfather?”

“Thank you, Eir, but there is no need. I shall bring him myself,” Frigga said, moving towards the door, accompanied by the sound of swishing skirts. She was nearly out the door when Tony, as reckless and impulsive as ever, spoke up.

“Maybe that’s not the best idea,” the billionaire called after her, causing the Allmother to freeze. 

Slowly, she turned around, a polite smile fixed on her lovely face. “My dear sir, whatever could you mean by that? The Allfather can only help.”

“Yeah,” Stark said with a small shrug, “I’m sure he can because you all say he’s super great and all that, but just because he can help, doesn’t mean he actually will.”

Eir and the young medic Asja, sensing Frigga’s quiet rage, hurried themselves out of the room and shut the door behind them. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three had risen from their seats on the couch, hands on their weapons, and looks of outrage mirrored on their faces at these insolent words. Thor, too, was standing, Mjolnir in his hands, but he didn’t know whose side he was on – he felt defensive of his father, but fear for his friend. Both Steve and Jane were shooting looks of warning at Tony, but neither moved, fearing Frigga’s wrath. Bruce face palmed, unable to believe that Tony could be so stupid, invoking the Queen of Asgard’s ire. 

Frigga remained as composed as ever, the tilt of her head the only sign of her irritation. “I’m afraid I do not understand your concerns, Man of Iron. But I hope that you will choose your words more carefully from now on. I’m afraid you’ll find that my husband is not nearly as forgiving as I can be.” 

With these words, she swept out of the room. As soon as the door shut, Tony was hounded by everybody in the room, except Tom, who pushed himself to the edge of the bed, wondering if what Tony had said about Odin was true. He knew that Loki and Odin had a rocky relationship. Anthony Hopkins was a chill guy, but his character was pretty intense. 

He felt something buzz in his pocket, and reached into it to find his phone vibrating. The normalcy of his phone ringing in this situation was so bizarre that he couldn’t help but laugh. This, at least, likely saved Tony’s life, as Sif, the Warriors Three, Steve, and Natasha looked about five seconds away from killing the man. 

“Who is calling you, Son of Hiddles?” asked Thor, pointing a large finger at Tom’s phone. Still laughing under his breath, Tom looked at the caller ID. How ironic it was that it was Chris Hemsworth calling him. 

“Hello?” Tom asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious once more as everybody directed their attention on him. 

“Tom?” came the Australian-accented voice of his friend, and Tom nearly laughed aloud once more, from both disbelief and relief. 

“Yeah, mate, it’s me,” the British actor responded. “You won’t believe what’s happened.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” said Chris. “Man, it’s been crazy over here. But Tom, you’ve got to tell me. Where are you right now?”

Tom laughed this time. “This is going to sound crazy, Chris, but I’m on Asgard.”

He’d expected laughter, or silent disbelief, or perhaps a deadpan, “Haha, you’re hilarious, now where are you really?” He did not expect his friend to swear and then shout over his shoulder, “Yeah, you were right guys, we’re in deep trouble now.”

“What’s happening over there?” asked Tom, who felt his stomach drop at the sound of worry in Chris’s voice. He glanced at Thor, who was giving him a look that was probably identical to the one on Hemsworth’s face right now. 

“Well, you probably won’t believe it, but we came looking for you after you missed the lunch date,” the other man said. “And we found Loki in your room.”

Tom, having just stood up, sat back down on the bed. He had a bad feeling as to where this was going. “And?”

“And…and he got away.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Robert was pissed. All he wanted was a nice, quiet day, eating lunch with his friends and relaxing. And then Loki had to show up and ruin all his plans. I mean, come on, couldn’t the guy at least call and ask if it was okay to crash the party? But no, in addition to his lack of desire to not take over the world, the guy also had no sense of respect. 

So here they all were, just six average celebrities trying to locate a godly maniac who was loose in Los Angeles. Fun times. 

And by “trying” it meant they had remained exactly where they were in what had been Tom’s room, attempting to figure out a way to locate Loki without being mobbed by the public asking for photographs and autographs. So far, their only lead of any sort had been Chris’s phone call to Tom, who was, as suspected, in Asgard. Which was a strange thing to hear and realize was true. 

“Well, they have remarkably good reception on Asgard,” Robert said in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere in the room, but other than a sarcastic, “Haha” from Scarlett, nobody even bothered to react to the comment. Which was highly offensive. 

“Okay, so basically there’s two ways for Loki to show up,” Jeremy said. “He’s either going to be on the news for attempting to or actually taking over the world, in which case, oops, we failed, or he’s going to be on the news for some crazy shit and end up in jail.”

“Mark, what the hell are you doing?” Scarlett asked the curly-haired man, who looked up guiltily from his phone. “Oh my god, are you actually live tweeting this whole thing to the nation? I thought we were over this!”

He sheepishly slipped his phone into his pocket. “Sorry, Scar, I just thought, you know, if Loki’s loose in LA, it might be helpful if more people than just us knew about it.”

Scarlett sighed in exasperation. “That’s actually probably the opposite of what we want.”

“So much for keeping it a secret,” Chris Evans added, scrolling through his own phone. “But hey, maybe it’s a good thing. There are reports of sightings of Loki on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.” He laughed. “Poor guy. All the fans are posting selfies with him. He looks so lost. But yeah. Walk of Fame.”

The group exchanged looks at this news, and came to a silent agreement.

“Alright, we’ll head down there,” Hemsworth said. “But everyone’s going to recognize us. That might make it hard to find Loki.”

“Or easier, depending,” Evans countered. 

“Let’s just figure it out as we go,” Robert suggested, adjusting the colorful glasses that he was sporting. He hoped that finding and taking care of (or whatever they were calling this) Loki wouldn't take to long. Then maybe they could at least have dinner together. “I mean, we dealt with Loki once already.”

The others gave him deadpan or incredulous stares. 

“Yeah, we dealt with him, if that’s what you’re calling it,” Jeremy said. “But that was when it was Tom, dressed as Loki, and we were on a movie set with CGI. This is something completely different.”

Robert just shrugged good-naturedly, apparently not nervous about the prospect of actually facing the God of Mischief, without his suit of iron. 

“Well, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this,” Evans joked, “but Avengers, Assemble!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
> 
> Sorry I don't know what's wrong with me. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and that everything actually made sense. I have the first, like, thirty words of the next chapter ready so...we'll see how long that takes and when I update next, but I think the next chapter may be the last...I'll write it, might add a sixth one but I don't know......
> 
> (Does anybody know how to make the notes go away? For some reason the end notes from the first chapter pop up at the end of every chapter even if I have other notes.....:( why????????)
> 
> Thanks again for all the reviews and kudos!! I appreciate it so much. 
> 
> Anyway, peace out y'all.


	5. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hemsworth, Loki just wants to go home now, Sif is shook, yeah I've decided I don't like Odin so Tom's gonna put him in place, Tony and Bruce are science bros, and goodbye!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for basically disappearing off the face of the planet for a few months. I've had a horrible case of writer's block and just couldn't come up with anything. This chapter's pretty long (15 pages!), but you guys deserve it! 
> 
> Thank you to all the kind reviews and kudos! They make my day and motivate me to keep writing. 
> 
> I don’t own Marvel or any characters you might recognize!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> Ehehehehe.

The fact that the Hollywood Walk of Fame was still intact by the time the six arrived felt like a good omen to Chris Hemsworth. Also the lack of smoke. And death. And magic. And…Loki.

Well, perhaps that last thing wasn’t so good. For once, the Avengers – or at least their actors – wanted to see the manic god of mischief. 

“I don’t understand,” said Mark, looking at his phone. “Someone posted a photo of him on Tom’s star just five minutes ago.”

They all looked down. They were standing on said place, and there was no sign of the armor-clad man.

“Well, unless Loki’s invisible, he’s not here,” Robert snarked, adjusting his colorful glasses before folding his arms. 

“He might be, though,” Scarlett said, looking around as though she suspected the god might be eavesdropping on their conversation and laughing at their cluelessness. “He’s really good at magic.”

“Oh great.”

“So, we’ve lost him,” Jeremy summarized. “Any other news on his whereabouts? This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. There’s no screaming at all.”

He jumped when suddenly, as if on cue, loud shrieks pierced the afternoon air, and like one well-oiled machine, the six celebrities turned in the direction of the noise. 

“Or maybe not,” Robert said. 

“Come on,” ordered Hemsworth, leading the group towards the source of the sound. As they made their way, he was pleased to note that none of the people on the Walk of Fame swarmed them, asking for pictures or autographs. Clearly, their very extensive disguises were doing a good job of making them unrecognizable. It’s amazing what a hat and sunglasses will do. Chris was a genius.

There was a huge crowd gathered around the source of the screaming noise, a seething mass of humans, a solid wall of people blocking the way, pushing the group away from the center and jostling them in all directions. Hemsworth sighed. Why couldn’t this just be easy? Although, he supposed, as an Avenger, nothing ever was. He adjusted his baseball cap and sunglasses as a teenage girl was knocked into him. 

“Oops, sorry!” she giggled, before being swept away by the crowd. 

“This is impossible!” Hemsworth heard Evans shout from somewhere behind him, but craning his neck, he couldn’t make out his fellow Chris in the crowd. Hell, he couldn’t see any of his friends. They’d all vanished into the sea of people. 

As another person fell into him, this time a teenaged boy who couldn’t be more than fourteen, Hemsworth grabbed ahold of the boy’s bicep and held tight. 

“Excuse me, could you tell me what’s happening?” he shouted over the general chaos around him. 

“Sorry,” the boy bubbled excitedly. “From what I saw, Tom Hiddleston is here, dressed as Loki. I got a picture if you’d like to see!”

Without waiting for a reply, the boy shoved a small phone screen into Hemsworth’s face. In the approximately five seconds Chris saw it before the boy vanished into the crowd, he could make out a blurry photo with bad lighting. There was a myriad of colors, people with unclear faces. In the top right corner, he could see a solid patch of green and gold – presumably, Loki.

“Thank you!” he shouted, even though he had no idea where the boy had gone. He looked around him once more, looking desperately for any of his friends, but the faces around him were unfamiliar, and straining his ears, the chattering voices around him were indistinct and unrecognizable. As far as Hemsworth was concerned, he was completely on his own, unless the others had been more successful and already reached Loki. He checked his phone, certain that if any progress had been made, his friends would let him know, but he had no new notifications. 

Chris began to push his way towards the center of the circle, dropping perhaps an excessive amount of apologies as he made his way. Nobody seemed to mind him, although it was mostly because everybody was much too focused on the center, and there were so many people trying to shove their way towards the middle, that his task was next to impossible. He made some progress, but for every step he forged forward, he was always pushed back more. He briefly considered ditching his fabulous disguise – perhaps people would let him reach Loki if they knew who he was – but decided against it almost immediately. They’d probably mob him instead, and then he’d never escape. It was after about half an hour of futilely pushing his way towards the center that he finally decided it was useless, and somehow managed to shove his way out of the mob in hope of regrouping and finding a better way to reach Loki. 

Standing under a tree a few yards away from the growing mob, Hemsworth shook his head in disbelief. This was crazy. And none of his friends had reappeared, so either they’d all given up and returned to the hotel without him, or they were still somewhere in the sea of people. Likely the latter. 

As it turned out, he didn’t need to go to Loki. Loki came to him. The mass had grown to new, almost outrageous, proportions, so Hemsworth had retreated further away, holding to the hope that people would eventually lose interest and disperse. The screaming suddenly intensified, and then there were shouts of, “Where did he go?” and Hemsworth was aware that somebody was clinging to him tightly. 

He looked at the man whose arms were wrapped around his shoulders and did a double take.

“Loki?” he asked incredulously. 

“Take me back!” the god pleaded, looking at Hemsworth with wide, desperate eyes. 

The mischief-maker looked worse for wear. His Asgardian armor was scuffed and even torn in some places. He was bleeding from a scratch in his face and there was a bruise on his jaw. 

Perhaps it was Loki, or perhaps it was the complete ridiculousness of the entire situation. Hemsworth couldn’t help himself. He burst into laughter.

The pleading look on Loki’s face evaporated immediately, replaced by a sneer. “You mortals are completely insane,” he declared, folding his arms like a petulant child.

Choking back on his laughter, Hemsworth patted Loki on the back. “Alright, let’s get back to the hotel before everyone realizes where you’ve gone.” He gestured at the mob that was slowly breaking up, people looking extremely disgruntled at the fact that they hadn’t gotten to see Loki before he vanished. 

Loki sneered again, and an almost imperceptible shimmer overtook his body. When the magic settled, he no longer resembled the God of Mischief, having donned the disguise of the teenage boy Hemsworth had spoken with earlier. 

“Perhaps I should have done this before,” Loki commented, mostly to himself, “but I did not believe that I would be recognized so easily.”

Hemsworth gave him a weird look. “Even so, you were wearing that armor. That would’ve attracted more than a few odd looks.”

His not-brother gave him a look of contempt. “I suppose you think you’re rather clever, porting a hat and dark glasses as a disguise. Well,” he finished smugly, “I certainly recognized you without issue.”

“Whatever,” Hemsworth said with a shrug. “Let’s go back to the hotel, where you’ll be safer. I’ll call my friends.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “Must you do that?”

“Yes, they’ll be worried,” Hemsworth replied, pulling out his phone. “They did come after you, you know.”

The god’s eyes widened with distaste, but he said nothing more as the other dialed and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” came Evans’ voice on the other end. “Chris, how’s it going for you?”

“Loki’s here,” Hemsworth replied, and heard the other sigh in relief. “We’re heading back to the hotel. If you’re with any of the others, let them know, but I’m going to call everyone else too.”

“That’s great,” Evans replied. “I lost everyone in the crowd, but now that it’s breaking up, I might be able to find people.”

“I’ll meet you back at the hotel then.”  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“They WHAT?” came the shocked exclamation from Sif. Her calmer and quiet exterior crumbled when Tom nervously delivered the news of Loki’s disappearance from the parallel world where he was from. The Lady Warrior said nothing more after her outburst, mumbling angrily under her breath about the incapabilities of mortals. 

“Yeah, they lost Loki. He’s gone,” Tom confirmed, waving his cell phone in the air as if the device somehow proved his statement.

“Great,” Hawkeye was saying to nobody in particular. “This is just great.”

Tony had lapsed into silence as Tom explained what had happened to his friends at the hotel, his usual wittiness falling silent. Now he spoke up again. 

“I’m sure there’s a way we can build a portal to your dimension or whatever,” he said. “Maybe using the power of Thor’s hammer, I can build something to harness the energy and open a door. Then we can go find Loki and bring him back before he tries to take over New York again.”

It was intended as a joke, but nobody laughed. In fact, both Natasha and Clint looked downright murderous at Tony's attempt at humor. Luckily, the genius’s life was once again spared by the door being thrown open by a servant girl.

“The Allfather wishes to speak with all of you in the throne room now, regarding the prisoner,” she said in a tremulous voice.

There was an exchange of glances before everybody began standing up and making their way towards the door. Tom stood too, uncertainly, until Thor suggested it might be a good idea for him to leave the wig on. Picking up the hairpiece, Tom placed it back on his head, falling once more into the role of Loki, and followed the others out. He couldn’t help but gasp at the splendor of the Aesir throne room. For all his dislike of Odin’s character, he couldn’t deny that the King lived in style and luxury. The movie’s set did not do justice to the sheer awe the room inspired, and Tom forced himself to stop gazing around in wonder. He wanted to focus on the King himself.

Odin had not moved from his seat. He lounged in the throne, if one could call his stiff posture and tense air “lounging”. He had what appeared to be an iron grip on a golden staff, and despite the many people surrounding Tom, it seemed that the Allfather’s one cold blue eye zeroed in on the actor. Frigga, who had appeared to majestic and commanding in the other room, seemed dwarfed by her husband as she stood beside him, though Tom knew just how powerful she was. 

Thor noted how empty the throne room had become. The guests must have been cleared out while they were away; now, only the most prominent and notable members of the Aesir court were present, casting suspicious looks at Loki. Thor wondered if they could tell that the prince was someone else. 

“Father,” Thor spoke after bowing. The weight of his words seemed to startle everyone, sending a shiver through the air as the heavy silence was broken. Before the First Prince of Asgard could go on, Odin raised his hand.

“My son,” he said to Thor, “this is not your place to interfere. We are dealing with matters unheard of.”

“But Father – ”

“I will not hear it, Thor!” the Allfather all but shouted, his cold eye suddenly warmed with fury. “I tell you, hold your tongue or leave the room.”

There was an anger on Thor’s face, but it quickly melted away as he stepped back, closing ranks with his friends. Jane gave him a look of sympathy, unable to deny her dislike of Odin. 

Silence reigned once more. Odin knew how to use his power well, and he wielded silence like a silver sword, heavy and ostentatious, but deadly nonetheless. Jane held her breath, hardly daring to breathe lest the Allfather’s wrathful gaze fall on her for disturbing the quiet.

“It is hard for a King to be surprised,” Odin spoke at last, his gaze fixed on something nobody could see. He had adopted a surprisingly gentle expression, and one could almost imagine the ghost of a smile on his face as he continued. “But today, Loki, my son, you have done more than that. You have impressed me. I see now what I saw not before. Perhaps your ways have been changed. Perhaps, somewhere in your muddled mind, there is still the boy I raised and loved.”

Tom shifted uncomfortably. He’d expected the Allfather to be much harsher than this, especially after seeing the way he treated Thor. But instead the King was the picture of a perfect, loving father, genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of a misled son.

“But there is still a long path for you, if you wish to redeem your past actions,” Odin continued. “Lifting Mjolnir has proved your worthiness, but your true intentions still lie in the dark. You must further prove you have moved past your…” here he hesitated, appearing to search for the right word. His lips twisted, warping in distaste. “…Midgardian episode…until then I’m afraid there is little more I can do but send you back to your cell – ”

“Father, no!” Thor couldn’t help himself. It simply wasn’t fair. The Allfather had to see that Loki was a changed man now. Sending him back to prison wasn’t what was supposed to happen. 

“SILENCE!” Odin roared. Gone was the calm and caring façade. His face was terrible, a grotesque mask of anger that had appeared as suddenly as a rapid-approaching tempest. His shout had startled many, and his intimidating figure rose from the seat, silhouetted in the light pouring in from the large window behind him, casting him in a harsh, divine glow. He glared, not at Thor, but at Loki, as if the God of Mischief were trying every last bit of his patience.

“I have tried countless times,” he began, his speech punctuated by heavy breathing, “to overlook your behavior, Loki, but it seems you are truly beyond the reach of my help.”

Jane gaped in disbelief at the Allfather’s words. His mood had changed so quickly, she was having a hard time processing the turn of events, but if she was correct, it seemed as though the King of Asgard was choosing to ignore Thor in favor of blaming Loki. She glanced at her beloved God of Thunder and was surprised to see him swallow and look down at the ground in shame and sorrow. And now, looking around at the Aesir in the room, she was surprised and disheartened by what she saw: the Royal Court, exchanging looks, some smug, some disapproving, others annoyed, Sif and the Warriors Three, stony expressions on their faces, but determinedly looking away from not-Loki-actually-Tom and Odin, and lastly, perhaps most discouragingly of all, Frigga, the Allmother, with a grief-stricken look gracing her beautiful features. Her hands were crossed over each other, her head bowed, staring at the ground in a desperate and futile attempt to tune out everything that was happening. Nobody spoke out on Loki's behalf.

A nagging voice sang in her head. This is a normal occurrence. The Allfather always takes his anger out on Loki, no matter how unjustified it is. 

Jane found herself reeling, as though she’d just taken a blow to the gut. Judging from the expressions on the other non-Aesir faces of her friends, they had all reached the same conclusion. Tony’s eyes were hard like diamonds, his jaw clenched and his hands balled in fists. Steve wore a similar expression, ready to jump to Loki’s defense in protestation of his father’s cruel treatment. Natasha was giving Odin a hard look, and next to her Bruce looked like he was trying not Hulk out. Hawkeye just stared at the ground, what little of his expression visible to the others was completely unreadable. 

Tony swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from doing something completely irrational. But it was hard. So hard. He wanted nothing more then to butt in and put Odin in his place. Which was completely crazy, not to mention suicidal, to stand up to one of the most powerful beings in the universe, in Loki’s defense. But if there was one thing the billionaire hated, it was fathers like Odin. Who used their power against weaker beings. Who inspired fear for respect instead of love. Who blamed others for their problems and made others unhappy. But even if he did stand up for Loki and tell Odin he was being an ass, what then? Odin would probably vaporize him, or maybe turn him into a frog. Then, not only would that suck for Tony, but the world would be completely, utterly devastated by the loss of their beloved playboy. And Tony just couldn’t do that! 

(But seriously, he had no idea what he would even say to Odin that would help anything at all. Maybe Steve would do something, the Star Spangled Man With a Plan certainly looked ready to give Odin a lecture on bullying.)

The Allfather had been ranting for several minutes now, pointing out all of Loki’s flaws, mentioning all the times the prince had dared misbehave. Tom had stopped listening after the part where Loki got his mouth stitched shut. The actor had read enough Norse mythology to know why the trickster had been subjected to that torture and was beginning to get annoyed and upset on Loki’s behalf. If this was truly what the Second Prince of Asgard had put up with on a daily basis…it explained a lot.

“If I might interrupt,” Tom interjected smoothly. Odin appeared so surprised at this sudden disruption that his tirade stopped and he glared coldly at what he believed was Loki. There was silence again this time, but it wasn’t complete, altered by a shift in the room as everyone seemed to sit up a little straighter. When the Allfather said nothing more, Tom decided he was allowed to continue. “I don’t really think you’re being very fair to Loki. I understand that you see what he did in New York was wrong, but, and this might just be coming from me, there’s a lot more to that story, and if you’d ever given him a chance to explain his actions, really explain, you’d see what I’m talking about.”

Odin raised the eyebrow above his good eye. “My son, I’m afraid your time in isolation has made you rather mad, for I’m afraid I do not comprehend the words you speak.”

Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The King was back to this “gentle father figure” act that was as transparent as a ghost. Literally. He wasn’t fooling anybody. 

“Well, Allfather, I’m afraid that I’m not, in fact, Loki, and I assure you that I say this in my right mind.” The actor removed the wig, revealing his true person and eliciting a gasp of shock from the Royal Court. He almost pulled out his phone to take a picture – Odin’s face was completely priceless at this revelation.

But the shock was quickly eaten away by anger and hatred. “What trick is this, _Jotun._ I should have known there was no way a trickster could have been worthy of Mjolnir. There is foul play afoot, but now I know. There’s no more need to play this game, Loki. You have failed.”

“You really are full of it.” Tom couldn’t help but blurt the phrase out loud, and almost immediately regretted it. Frigga’s hands flew to her mouth, and Thor’s mouth was opened in shock at such blatant disrespect. “You think that just because you’re the great Allfather, you can do and say whatever you want. Everybody is beneath you. But I see what Loki was on about. Perhaps he would have made a better King.”

Odin all but flew at him with these words. Rage was rolling off him, tangible hatred infusing the air. Tom closed his eyes, bracing himself for the violence he was sure would ensue. He probably deserved it, inciting such a being’s ire, but it felt good to say those things. Maybe he didn’t agree with everything Loki had ever done, but the prince certainly didn’t deserve to have his character slandered by filthy words. And since nobody else would ever put Odin in his place…

The blow he expected never landed. When the actor opened his eyes, he was surprised to see that it was Thor who had stopped his father, holding the seething god back by the shoulders.

“Enough.” Frigga too had placed her hands on her husband, having descended from the Royal Platform. “That is enough.” She gave Tom a look that he couldn’t quite read as she helped her still-raging husband back to the throne. “I think it is time we took a different approach. I believe Loki has served a long enough sentence. He has shown that he has changed. We will see how he behaves once he returns. But for now, that is what we must focus on. Getting my son back.”

“Where has he gone?” one of the council members asked from his seat.

“We believe to a parallel universe,” the Queen responded seriously. “A universe where we all are simply characters. And it seems as though our Loki has somehow switched places with the man who is his double.”

Odin, his body still rigid with his wrath, seemed to be soaking in this new information with an air of interest, but he said nothing as Frigga continued. 

“We must find a way to return the son of Hiddles to his world, and my son to ours.”

Thor turned to Tony. “Man of Iron, I believe earlier you were speaking of a method?”

Tony cleared his throat, shooting Tom a look filled with respect. He was impressed by the man who had stood up to Odin, the Allfather, when even Tony Stark, genius, philanthropist, playboy extraordinaire, hadn’t dared. 

“Yes, I believe that there’s a possibility that Bruce and I could engineer a device that would allow us to harness the power of the hammer and open a portal of sorts to Tom’s world,” Tony explained his idea. 

“But how?” asked one of the Warriors Three – Fandral, if Tony was correct, which of course he was. “Mjolnir does not channel the Bifrost, and she has no means of allowing interdimensional travel.”

It was Bruce who replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “She was what got Tom here in the first place. She must be the way of getting him back.”

“If you just let us two science bros figure out the logistical issues and planning,” Tony added, “we’ll figure it out in no time.”

“Very well,” Thor decided for everybody as he procured Mjolnir and placed it by Bruce’s feet. “Friend Banner, Friend Stark, I hope you figure out a way to get my brother back. If you need any help with anything, like lifting Mjolnir, let me know.”

The genius scoffed. “I’m totally worthy enough of Mjolnir, Point Break.”  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

It was perhaps half an hour later when Tom got another phone call from Chris. He and the others hadn’t left the throne room, where now Bruce and Tony had set up a makeshift workshop of sorts with a lot of complicated-looking metal things and shiny stuff. Thor stood by the two, offering pieces of friendly but completely useless advice. Odin, who kept shooting furious looks at Tom but seemed to have been shocked into silence for now, was still sitting in his throne. He had ruled that, at this moment, retrieving the true Loki and returning this impudent doppelganger from the unfortunate world he was from, was the current priority. 

The sound of the phone ringing cut through the unusually comfortable silence that, for once, pervaded the throne room. 

“Hello?” Tom answered, his voice echoing off the high vaulted ceilings.

“Hey, mate,” came the Australian actor’s greeting. “Good news. We’ve got Loki. Bad news. We have no idea what to do now. How do we get you back, man?”

“We’re working on it,” Tom replied, feeling relieved knowing his counterpart was safe and decidedly not destroying anything. 

“We?” echoed Chris.

“Well, Tony and Bruce are,” Tom elaborated.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Only Hemsworth’s breathing told the British actor the call was still connected. Finally Chris spoke. “Man, this is hella weird.”

“Tell me about it,” the other laughed. “Anyway, if all goes according to plan, we should be able to open up a portal that will allow Loki and me to return to our respective worlds. Then we can just pretend this never happened.”

“Right.”

“How are the others doing?”

“Not too bad, surprisingly. No identity crises or meltdowns,” Chris reported. “How are they?”

He didn’t need to explain who “they” were. He meant the characters. He was genuinely concerned for their sanity, how they were handling the situation and the reality that they were nothing but made up creations.

“Same over here,” said Tom. “I guess I should just be thankful that nothing major has happened. But it might help that they haven’t met their actual actors, so maybe it doesn’t really feel real to them, you know?”

“Yeah,” Chris answered. “About that, I’ve been talking with the others, and,” he paused, hesitating, “we were wondering if we could meet our characters? It would definitely be an experience, but it might, I don’t know, tear apart the fabric of time and reality or whatever.”

“I don’t know, man,” Tom said. “I feel like that might send people into shock.”

Chris laughed, not unkindly. “That’s what I was afraid of, too.” 

“Aw, shit,” came Tony’s voice as a circuit suddenly leapt to life and sent a volt of shock through the billionaire. “Okay, I think we’re almost good to go.”

“That was fast,” said Steve in surprise. 

“Well, it looks like we’re about to test out this portal,” Tom said to Chris. “I can ask if they’d like to meet you. I’m not sure how they’ll react but…either way, I’ll see you soon hopefully.”

“It’s alright, mate,” Chris said. “You don’t need to ask, they’ve got enough going on as it is. We’ll see you soon.” The line went dead. 

“We just need Mjolnir now,” Bruce was saying.

“Of course, Friend Banner,” Thor said, his voice boisterous now. He hefted the hammer into the air. “Where would you like me to put her?”

“Right here,” Tony said, gesturing towards a complicated metal contraption that was attached to wires and a wild-looking control board. The God of Thunder readily obliged, and with the mighty weapon in place, both Banner and Stark immediately began adjusting the machine, clamping her into place and attaching wires to the hammer's metal head.

“If that machine is holding up the hammer,” Clint whispered to Natasha, “does that make the machine worthy of the power of Thor?”

She smacked him. 

“Okay, Operation Interdimensional Portal Machine, Test One,” Bruce said nervously. 

“It’ll work,” Tony said cockily. 

“We don’t know that,” came the other scientist’s tense reply.

“It was built by us, of course it will.”

They ceased the banter as they both furiously worked at the control board, flipping levers, pushing buttons, and adjusting wires seemingly at random. 

“Here we go,” Tony said. “We just have to push this button and…” he trailed off, pushing said button. The entire throne room waited with bated breath. Everyone was unsure of what exactly was supposed to happen.

Nothing.

“Well, we couldn’t expect it to work on the first – ” began Steve optimistically, except suddenly a brilliant light exploded into existence. A swirling, writhing vortex of iridescent colors ingrained itself in the eyes of all watching, its brightness and beauty nearly blinding. 

“What did I say? Operation Interdimensional Portal Machine is a go. ” Tony asked smugly, turning to look at Captain America, who put his hands in the air in a gesture of exasperated surrender. 

Now everyone was turning to Tom. 

“I guess we see if it works now,” the actor said, the idea of stepping into a mysterious portal rather unappealing. 

“Well, maybe we should test it first, make sure it ends up where you want to go and not in Antartica or something,” Tony suggested.

“Or killing you,” Bruce added helpfully.

“We need a test subject,” Steve said, looking around for something to use. 

“Here, what about this apple?” suggested Black Widow. Nobody was quite sure where she got the fruit from, but most times it was best not to question the assassin’s ways. Tony readily accepted the apple. 

“Here goes nothing.”

Seconds after the red fruit had been tossed into the vortex of light, Tom’s phone rang once again, showing Chris was calling. 

“Yeah?”

“I think the portal thing worked,” Chris said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, did you just throw an apple into it?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” There was a pause, and then the sound of someone biting into an apple issued through the phone. “Tastes very good.”

Laughing under his breath, Tom took the phone away from his ear. “It worked. My friends say they just received your apple.”

“We are GODS!” Tony said, jumping up and down in elation.

Thor frowned but did not bother to correct the Man of Iron’s statement. 

“Tell your friends to send Loki through first,” Frigga said. “It’s best he spends as little time in your world as possible.”

Bringing the phone back to his ear, Tom repeated the Queen’s instructions. About a minute later, the portal glowed a bright emerald green and a figure nearly stumbled through. Thor caught him, and with a delighted cry of “Brother!” crushed the returned Loki in a hug.

“Off, off, you great oaf!” came the God of Mischief’s disgruntled voice as he pushed Thor away, but once glance at his face showed just how relieved he was to be back in a place he recognized, among the people he knew. 

His gaze fixed on Tom, and the two lookalikes shared an intense look that had the others bristling nervously. 

Finally, Loki looked away. “So it wasn’t a trick then,” he said, eyes boring into the Allfather.

“I would never stoop to your level of trickery,” the Allfather snarled.

Loki sneered.

Tom sighed. Despite his words earlier, it appeared there was no way to change Odin’s attitude. 

“Well, I guess that’s my cue then,” Tom said.

He made his way towards the portal, still not completely down with the idea of interdimensional travel. One more time, he looked around at the faces present. The faces of the people he thought were fantasy, who were nothing more than characters in a movie. As much as he wanted to get home to his normal, explainable life, he knew he would miss his brief time on Asgard. If only he’d come prepared. He would’ve loved to stay and talk with Thor and Tony and Bruce and Steve and everyone else for much longer and see what they were like, off screen, beyond the movies. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Sure, Nostradamus,” Tony said, smirk playing at his lips. 

Loki was still by the portal. Tom noted with interest that the prince was not dressed in the prisoner’s garb he likely should’ve been wearing, but rather regal Aesir armor. 

“Well, I wish you luck,” Tom said curtly, unsure of what else to say to the god. Loki, as Tom knew very well, was unpredictable and volatile. There was no telling how the trickster would react to the sympathy Tom really wanted to express. 

Loki inclined his head, interest piqued by this doppelganger who seemed to not hate him. 

Tom decided it was worth the risk. What could he lose, after all? He was going back to his world, a world where nothing and no one in this throne room would ever be able to hurt him once he stepped through the portal. Raising his voice so that everyone in the throne room would hear him, he continued. 

“I know why you attacked New York. I have seen what you’ve seen. Even if everyone in this room loses faith in you, turns against you, refuses to believe you, I will always be there. Because I know you’re a good man, that you’re capable of goodness, if others would just give you the chance.” He aimed these words at Odin, whose single eye bore into the mortal. Tom clapped Loki on the shoulder, and the other scowled angrily. 

“I don’t need your pity,” snapped Loki, his interest in the man gone. A sympathizer. Sentiment was something that had gotten Loki nowhere.

“It’s not pity, it’s the truth,” said Tom. “I hope one day, you realize that. I wish you luck.”

He stepped away, but right before he was out of reach, Loki grabbed his hand. “And I wish you luck with your many fangirls.”

Tom burst into laughter at this, and even Loki’s eyes crinkled with the hint of a smile. 

“Alright, man, you better get going,” Bruce said. “The control panel’s heating up. I don’t know for how much longer we can keep the portal open.”

“Maybe you’ll see us again, though,” Tony said with an excited smile on his face. “Maybe we can find other ways to travel to your world.”

Steve gave him a salute.

“Thanks for all the information,” Natasha said, giving him a curt nod. 

“I guess I won’t kill you,” Clint said, and then turned to glare at Loki.

Jane smiled at him and waved. Sif and the Warriors Three merely nodded in farewell.

Thor gave him a tearful hug. “Thank you, Son of Hiddles. For standing up for my brother and trying to make my father see reason.”

Frigga kissed the top of his head. “I’d be proud to call you my son.”

Tom blinked back tears. He hadn’t been expecting to feel so emotional about leaving. He cleared his throught. “Thank you all again. Goodbye. And good luck with everything.”

A last glance around the throne room, wondering if he’d ever get a chance to see these characters, these people,again. Perhaps it was too dangerous. Or perhaps Bruce and Tony would find a way. Either way, Tom knew, this was a place he certainly wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon. But, with a final look at Loki and Thor, now he was ready to go.

He took a deep breath, and stepped through the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Epilogue?
> 
> And I decided not to have the characters meet their actors...yet. If you guys like, I'm thinking of doing the epilogue as basically just a one-shot of all the characters meeting their actors and the aftermath of One and the Same.
> 
> I really hope that Tom standing up for Loki was a) up to expectations and b) believable, I struggled with that part of this chapter and I really hope I delivered the best version. 
> 
> (Also I figured out how to delete the notes that kept appearing at every chapter so yaaaaaayyyyy!)
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with this story! I'm not sure what I'll do next in terms of writing fan fiction. I'm thinking of doing a "watching the movie" type fan fiction, except instead of the whole movie, maybe just crucial/key scenes? What do you guys think?
> 
> If you have any suggestions please let me know!
> 
> AHHHH I'm so excited I finally finished my first fanfic!


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